I grew up in Tiburon, California, a small town on the San Francisco Bay on the north side of the Golden Gate Bridge. I spent my first 12 years here before we moved to Norway when my dad took a job as a Sea Captain on an oil drilling ship in the North Sea.
The summer when I was 11, my parents offered me the opportunity to join the Junior Sailing Program at the San Francisco Yacht Club, where I could fill my summer days sailing on the bay. The only drawback that I could see was that I would have to interview with the commodore of the exclusive club to gain entry, an intimidating and daunting hoop for me to have to jump through, but I felt the trade off would be worth it. I’d get to spend six days a week with access to sailboats and other kids and freedom, without having to try to fill empty summer days on my own. The interview was a cinch – short and friendly, and when school let out for summer, each morning I’d hop onto my neon orange Schwinn 10 speed and ride 4 miles along the windy, tree lined road from my house to the club. At the end of each sun filled day, I’d reverse the journey back home, happy and very tired. It was indeed a summer of freedom, friendships, and sailing on the San Francisco Bay, but more magical than I could have imagined. Many of the friendships I forged on those docks that summer would become lifelong.
Our gaggle of Junior Sailing friends reunited for a reunion this past October. We intentionally scheduled it to fall during the weekend of Fleet Week so we could enjoy the air show that would take place over the San Francisco Bay. About twenty of us gathered for dinner at the Yacht Club on Friday night, and then Saturday, we boarded four boats, owned by some of those in our group, and sailed out onto the bay to watch the Blue Angel’s.
The day was magnificent! The sky was utterly blue, there was wind for our sails, and the bay was crowded with boats of all sizes and kinds in anticipation of the thrill of the show we had all sailed out for. You could just feel the collective energy that the countless around us were putting out. There were sightings of porpoises and sea lions, and the Golden Gate Bridge made for a stunning backdrop for the photos I couldn’t stop taking. I decided to climb my way forward to the bow to get even closer to what I was feeling and take a break from the conversations around me for a moment as the planes began to appear. If you’ve ever had the experience of being under the sky when the jets fly over, you know the exhilaration of the sights and the sounds. It is literally breathtaking. Alone up at the bow, I thought about my dad as I breathed in the sea air, my emotions piqued. As a Sea Captain, he spent almost all of his adult life on the waters all over the globe, and even helmed late into his 80’s. I knew he would feel as I did in this midst and I felt a pang of longing. My dad was a mighty force in my life, and continues to be, even since his death in 2018 at the old age of 95. I appreciate who he was to me and what he taught me more and more as time goes on and my life unfolds.
Filled up, I climbed off the bow and re-joined my friends to enjoy the rest of the experience with them. Lynn and I talked about how our dads investment in those yacht club summers gave us so much more than just those adolescent summer days as we looked around at those we’ve known for more than 50 years, feeling such deep appreciation.
Soon, the show was over and we headed back towards the yacht club, each of us immensely satisfied at the perfection of the day. I picked up my phone and saw I had a notification for a text message and clicked on it. What popped up took my breath away. What popped up was not a text message. What popped up on my cell phone screen as we were headed back towards the yacht club, after the most perfect day on the San Francisco Bay, was instead, this…..
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